


no sweeter innocence

by extasiswings



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: (of sorts), Domestic Fluff, First Time, M/M, Post-Canon, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 18:39:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19340305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extasiswings/pseuds/extasiswings
Summary: "Well. Babe. You've been wanting him to dick you down forever, right?"[Or, the one where Alex does, in fact, finally get what he's been waiting for.]





	no sweeter innocence

“Fuck me.” 

Alex doesn’t even realize he says it until after, too caught up in the moment, too overwhelmed. He’s perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, legs wrapped around Henry’s waist as Henry kisses down his neck and palms him through his pants and it’s good, so good, but all Alex can think is it could be _more_. 

But if Alex doesn’t pick up on exactly what he’s said immediately, Henry certainly does. And Henry goes very still. 

He doesn’t stop completely at first, still placing gentle kisses against Alex’s skin when he recovers, but he does hum questioningly and Alex swallows hard. 

“I—“ he clears his throat. “I want you to fuck me.” 

A whine catches in the back of his throat when Henry pulls back, eyes closed and breathing hard, the look on his face what Alex has come to know as his “We need to talk about this” look. And Alex appreciates it, he really does, because he knows Henry is far more experienced and it’s nice to have someone want to check in to make sure he’s sure about new things, it really is, but he’s hard as a rock and aching in his pants and he knows they _should_ talk but he really _really_ doesn’t want to. 

(Partly because—well. It’s just that whenever they do more than hands or mouths, he always fucks Henry and it’s great, it’s _amazing_ , but Henry hasn’t even asked for the reverse which Alex feels like is a pretty good sign he doesn’t _want_ to, so there’s a stone pit of anticipatory rejection in his stomach every time he thinks about it and he just—yeah. He’d really rather not get rejected, okay?)

“Alex.” Henry’s voice is quiet as his finger hooks under Alex’s chin to tip it back up. “Look at me?”

Alex opens his eyes and Henry’s eyes are soft. 

“Are you sure?” 

Henry waits, letting the words linger, not asking anything else or trying to rush a response. And the tightness in Alex’s chest slowly starts to loosen, because if it was a no he would have just said, right? 

The thing is, Alex can’t really explain _why_ he wants it so badly. It’s probably enough that Henry seems to really enjoy it and Alex has always liked his fingers a hell of a lot which he doesn’t think is _that_ different, but it’s more than just curiosity or wanting to feel good. It’s the way he feels when it’s the other way around, the way he felt that night in LA, hot and surrounded and _trusted_ and _loved_ —he wants to give that back to Henry, make him feel that, too. Wants to be taken apart in every possible way, laid bare and open and vulnerable. Because it’s never been a casual thing with them and Alex wants...everything. 

But he doesn’t know how to _say_ all of that. So instead, he just says, “Yes,” quickly backtracking to add, “unless you don’t—we don’t _have_ to—“

Henry kisses the rest of the words from his lips and Alex gets lost in it, tightening his legs around Henry’s waist and tangling his fingers in Henry’s hair as Henry’s tongue slides against his. 

Henry’s a little breathless when he pulls back, but he doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against Alex’s so he can still hold his eyes. 

“Of course I _want_ to, love, how is that even a question?”

_Oh_. The rest of the tension floods out of Alex’s shoulders at that, the uncomfortable itch of anxiety disappearing with it. 

“You never brought it up,” he points out, and Henry makes a dismayed sound in the back of his throat and kisses him quickly again. 

“I didn’t want to presume,” Henry replies. “Not everyone wants it, and I know this is all new for you, and it’s hardly as if I’ve been feeling unsatisfied. I assumed you would ask, at which point I could enthusiastically agree. Although, I admit, I don’t seem to be doing so well on that point.” 

Alex huffs a small laugh and pulls him in to kiss him yet again. 

“Well, we should fix that then, shouldn’t we?”

Henry hums and nips at Alex’s lower lip. “I’m not fucking you for the first time on our kitchen counter.”

Alex tugs Henry’s head back and spends several enjoyable moments leaving a bright mark on his neck before kissing back up to his ear. 

“Then take me. To bed.”

Henry steps back, gently unhooking Alex’s legs from behind his back, and tugs him off the counter. They stumble through the house, pausing several times as one or both of them fails to keep their hands to themselves—not for the first time, Alex curses the fact that their bedroom is all the way upstairs. 

But finally, they stagger through the door, and Alex gets his hands under Henry’s t-shirt, pushing it up and off. When he reaches for Henry’s belt though, Henry stops him, a soft laugh escaping him. 

“Easy, darling. It’s not a race.” 

Alex laces their hands and pulls Henry back with him until his knees hit the edge of the bed. He falls back, pulling Henry on top of him and kissing him again. 

Henry resists Alex’s attempts to turn the kiss hotter, deep and filthy, and keeps it soft, slow. He gets Alex’s shirt off and kisses gently along his jaw, down his neck, his chest. When Alex reaches for his belt again, Henry captures his wrists and pins them to the mattress. 

“Henry—“ Alex breaks off when Henry mouths at him through his pants. _Christ_. 

“If I give you back your hands, will you be good and stop trying to rush me?” Henry’s eyes are dark, his voice wicked, and Alex suddenly regrets asking for this, if only because he’s not entirely sure he’s actually going to survive it. 

_But what a way to go._

“Yes,” he pants. “I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, just please, baby—“

Henry yanks Alex’s pants off and Alex whines again when he disappears after, missing the weight of him. But he’s back a moment later, dropping a condom and bottle of lube next to them. Alex squirms at the sound of the cap, biting his lip when Henry gets a slicked hand on him, stroking firmly. 

When Henry’s fingers dip lower, Alex’s breath catches. 

“Relax, sweetheart,” Henry murmurs, shifting his weight to kiss him. Alex sighs into his mouth and rolls his hips into the first finger, then a second, as he sinks into sensation. 

“That’s it.” Henry’s lips find Alex’s ear as he keeps talking, voice soothing and low. “Christ, you’re gorgeous like this, taking it so well—“

He curls his fingers into a spot that makes Alex gasp and arch up off the bed—he feels like he’s touching a live wire, his whole body lighting up with electric shocks, and it’s so so good, but he wants, he wants—

“ _Please_ ,” Alex begs. “I’m good, I’m ready, I promise. I can take it, just please please please, _fuck_ me.” 

Henry doesn’t argue, doesn’t tease. A different time, perhaps he might have, but he just withdraws his fingers gently and Alex hears the lube cap click again and waits until—

_Fuck._

“Breathe.” Henry’s hands settle on either side of Alex’s head and Alex forces his eyes back open—when had he closed them again? So slow, _achingly_ slow, Henry sinks a little more inside him and Alex drops his forehead to Henry’s shoulder and shudders out a breath. 

It’s weird. But it’s good. And after a minute of stillness, when Alex tentatively rocks his hips into it, making Henry swear, then it gets even better. 

It stays slow. Henry kisses him and Alex shivers and locks his legs behind Henry’s back, wraps his arms around him, feeling with each thrust like he very well might fly apart without Henry’s body weighing him down. But Alex loves it, loves _Henry_ , and when he comes, he strokes the back of Henry’s neck and feathers his lips across his jaw until Henry follows him over that edge. 

Later, after Henry’s dragged him into the shower and changed the sheets, they curl up in bed and Alex lets himself be held. Henry strokes his hair absently and traces random patterns on his spine and Alex just tucks his face into Henry’s neck and smiles as his eyes grow heavy. 

“For the record,” he mumbles, “we’re definitely doing that again.”

Henry’s soft laughter is the last thing he hears before he dozes off.


End file.
